A Song of Sand and Blood
by SapheeraRose
Summary: Daenerys Targaryen, daughter of the Mad King is Khaleesi of the Dothraki. She grows strong, both in her role as Queen and in her marriage to Drogo. What happens when Daeny decides she wants the crown? How will her brother deal with being second fiddle to his sister? And which of them truly carries the "Blood of Dragons"?
1. Prologue

I am Daenerys Targaryen, daughter of the Mad King Aerys Targaryen and wife to Khal Drogo of the Dothraki. My brother sold me to him in exhange for an army that he hoped would win him Iron Throne of the seven kingdoms. Back when I was Lamb Woman. I have come far from my humble beginings and am no longer a meek mouse that jumps when my brother yells. I am Khaleesi. I am Daenerys Stormborn and I have the blood of dragons running through my veins. My son will be the Stallion that Mounts the world and for him I will reclaim that which is rightfully mine by birth. Those who defy me will either bend the knee or be destroyed. Because after all, isn't it said that If you play the game of thrones, you win or die?

_We are still riding..._

Still traveling. I am so tired of being on this horse. I don't see why the Dothraki put so much reverence in their horses. They stink, their stubborn and all they are good for is carrying things. And yet the Dothraki practically treat them like gods. But Drogo is my husband, and I will follow him anywhere that will get me closer to home. I will follow him anywhere that will get me the army I need for my ascension. So on my white steed; I stay, plodding this dusty road.

"Daeny!" Visery whines, as he jerks his horse in stride with mine.

"What?" I hiss. The heat and the dust has put me in a foul mood. His eyes narrow.

"Don't you snap at me. Do you want to unleash the dragon?" He growls at me. I turn my head away to roll my eyes. I know he believes he is the heir to the Iron Throne, but the dragon thing is really starting to get tiresome. He throws it before him like armor, flouting it like a child's toy when he wants to get his way. I have suspected that Viserys wouldn't know what to do with an army, even if my husband gave him one. He will never take us home. But he is still my brother, and despite his sometimes cruel and demandingly spoiled ways, I will keep him with me.

_For now…._


	2. Through The Ashes

It is the evening after the Stallion Heart Ceremony. My stomach is still a bit queasy, but my husband radiates with pride. I have done well. We lay tangled together, skin dampened with the sheen of our fierce lovemaking.

"Tomorrow, we go to Lhazar. My Khalasar will pillage the city of Lamb Men." Drogo says in the deep gruff voice I have grown to love.

"But why?" I ask him, sitting up and looking anxiously into his face.

"If we are to take the Iron Chair for Rhaego, we must have ships." He says flatly.

"What does that have to do with pillaging a defenseless city?" I demand

"I will trade slaves for the ships we need." He says emotionlessly. Now that he has made the decision to do this, I can tell by his voice that he will not be swayed from his quest.

"Do you have to hurt them?" I ask. He smiles down at me.

"Moon of my Life, you worry about such small things. If you do not wish them hurt, they will not be." His voice is gentle, softer than I have ever heard it. By his tone, I can tell the conversation is over, but still I worry.

We ride into Lhazar the next afternoon, the Khalasar ride silently into the marketplace and begin grabbing women and young children, corralling them into a makeshift cage off in one of the buildings. There are screams everywhere as the Dothraki men slaughter anyone who they do not plan to take as slaves. They are thorough and merciless as they move through the town. After all the men are killed, some of the Dothraki men drag the younger, prettier women into the center of town.

"What are they doing?" I ask Jorah.

"They have done their job. Now it is time for their reward." He says softly. I watch in growing horror as the men begin dragging the screaming women into the center of town. I am nauseated as I discover what they plan to do.

"STOP!" I scream, running to the middle of the square.

"Khaleesi?" The war leader asks in confusion, the screaming woman squirming beneath him.

"Stop this now. I want them. All of them" I demand.

"You want these Lamb Women Khaleesi? They are not fit to serve you. " The man says, returning to the task at hand.

"You will stop or the Khal will hear of this" I demand. He stares hard at me. I return the heat of his stare. He pushes the woman over and stalks off to the Khal's tent. I rush over and help the woman up.

"Thank you." The woman says in a strange thick accent.

"What is your name?"

"Mirri Maz Duur" She says. The war leader returns with the Khal.

"Moon of my life. My war leader says you have taken these lamb women for yourself. These men have earned the spoils of war. Why do you deny them this?" He asks. I turn to him, turning on the full power of my violet eyes and my body.

"My moon and stars, I have taken many daughters this day so they cannot be mounted. It pleases me to keep them." I say, batting my eyes. The ploy has worked and a prideful smile spreads across the Khan's face.

"See how strong she becomes. That is my son inside her. " He turns to the War leader. "She wishes to keep them. Find somewhere else to stick your cock" He grunts. I smile in triumph.

"No Khal allows himself to be swayed by the whiles of a woman. This bitch and her witch slut have made you weak" The war leader growls. The Khal's smile turns vicious.

"Watch your tongue Ogo. Or I will cut it from your head." He growls

"Come try. _Achra chafak!" _ The man spits at him, rushing towards him and pressing his blade to his shoulder. The sharp steel digs into the Khal's flesh. He looks calmly to the blade and back to the man wielding it, pressing his shoulder against the blade, making it cut deeper.

"_Avvemolat" _He growls quietly, snatching the blade with his bare hands and pulling the man forward. He grabs him by the throat.

"I will not burn you after you die. I refuse to give you that honor" He growls, jerking his hand down and tearing out the man's throat. He throws what is left of the man's jugular onto the ground and sits back down. I rush to his side.

"My moon and stars. You are injured." I gasp, touching the cut that is already welling with blood. He glances at it and shrugs.

"A scratch" He growls.

"That cut must be cleaned and stitched or it will fester" A voice calls. I look back. It is the old Maegi woman from earlier.

"I know healing magics. I can clean the cut." She says, stepping closer. I look up at him. As I am about to speak, my handmaiden cuffs the woman to the floor.

"I have seen her healing! _Maegi!" _She growls and spits at the woman.

"Do not do that again." I say sternly. "What do you know?"

"She will kill him. She is angry we have taken over her city. She will KILL him Khaleesi." She insists. She sounds frightened, which makes me consider the truth of her words.

"I will kill her" Drogo growls. I lay a hand on his arm.

"Exile her. Let her live where Lamb Women deserve to be. In the sands" I whisper. He looks down at me, dropping a hand to caress my stomach.

"Exile her. Leave her to breathe our dust and eat the dung of our horses" He growls, wrapping a cloth around the cut on his arm. His men drag her to the edge of camp, tying her hands together and tying the end of her rope to the back of a horse. They lead her about a mile out and free her, shoving her away with kicks and spitting at her. She runs off and hides, looking out as they ride away.

"This is not over" She chants, pressing her body to the rock and beginning to make plans.

We are preparing for bed. I kneel beside Drogo, sewing the flesh together of the gash in his shoulder. He is completely still, showing no sign of pain. When I am finished, he blows out the candle and pushes me down in bed.

"Sleep. You need rest" He growls, tucking the furs around me.

"Where will you be?" I yawn.

"Making plans for the next town" He says, kissing me tenderly before leaving the tent. I adjust the furs and get comfortable, already feeling sleep making my eyelids heavy. After some time, I am not sure how long, a sound outside the tent makes me sit up, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. I can hear someone outside the tent. I hear soft chanting and the sound of something being scraped together. Then all is quiet. Just as I am about to lay back down, I smell the acrid scent of burning leather. Orange-red flames are licking quickly across the dry leather and I scream, grabbing the nearest thing and attempting to beat out the flames. My attempt is futile and before I know it the whole tent is an inferno. I can feel the heat, but I am no longer worried. I am Daenerys Stormborn and I have dragons blood in my veins and I do not fear fire. I reach for my dragons eggs, clutching them close to me as the tent burns around me. I can hear my husband and his men yelling outside. I try to yell to them not to worry, but the acrid smoke is making me cough and I know no more.

I sit up, dusting the ashes from my skin as I look at the wreckage around me. The tent and everything in it, other than me is charred and mangled. I can't even find my eggs. I frown and look around, my jaw dropping in shock as I see what is before me. 3 tiny dragons lay at my feet, squeaking and blinking against the blinding sun. I stare in shock at the gift the fire has wrought.

I am the mother of dragons…..

…


	3. The King Is Stark Raving Mad

There is a knock at my door.

"Lord Stark! " I groan and open the door, rubbing sleep from my eyes. "Yes?"

"You are summoned to a meeting of the small council" The smallish, skinny boy says, already rushing off to his next duty. I sigh softly and dress, heading for the throne room. As I walk into the council room, the king's angry voice greets me.

"The Targaryen whore is pregnant!" The king bellows. I sigh and smooth a hand over my face.

I am Eddard Stark…

I am hand of the king….

I can feel the eyes of the council on me. It makes me feel decidedly slimy. I know they expect me to do something. Expect me to rage and bellow and fall in behind them, ready to stick a knife in the girls back. I'm so tired of doing what is expected of me.

"I shall send her a gift basket" I say dryly. Probably not the reaction they expected.

"Do you find yourself amusing, Lord Stark?" Lord Varys asks me. I smirk in his direction.

"Yes, I've been known to draw a chuckle or two" I retort, matching his tone perfectly.

"Ed this is no time for games. What is stopping that little whore from spawning her demon seed and then marching her army of savages here and taking the city by force?" He demands, working himself into a glorious rage.

"Her husband" I say quietly. "The dothraki have no ships, they have no desire to cross the sea. No matter how much that little _whore_ may whine" I inform him flatly.

"And when they do?"

"They won't"

"Ed, don't fight me on this. You are the hand of the king, bound by honor and oath to do as I command. The girl dies! That is the last I will hear of it!" He slams his fist on the table.

I pull the sign of my office from my chest and drop it to the table…

"Find someone else. I'll have no part in it" I say, turning my back on them.

"Stark! Damn you Ed! Get back here!" He continues to bellow as I walk away. Finding the captian of my guard near my quarters, I pull him into the room.

"Find my daughters. Tell them they must pack quickly. We leave by nightfall"

"Yes M'Lord" He answers and rushes off. I begin filling a chest with my belongings.

I no longer feel safe here…..


	4. Time for the Stallion to Mount The World

Chapter 3 – It is time for the Stallion to Mount The World.

I sit straight up in bed with a groan. It feels like someone kicked me in the gut. My heart gallops with fear as I roll to my side and curl into the fetal position. It can't be time yet. I am not ready. I lie there quietly and wait for the pain to pass. I finally fall back into a fitful sleep but I am soon awake again. Rising from the bed, I wince as I dress, feeling the pain roll through me in waves. It continues for most of the day, but I stay silent, too frightened to admit to what I already know. As I am helping to prepare dinner, a wave of pain causes me to double over. The women gasp and rush over and the Holy Woman presses a hand to my stomach.

"It is time Khaleesi" She says kindly. I bite my lip, shaking my head.

"No" I whisper. "I am not ready"

"It is time for the Stallion to Mount the World. All will be well Khaleesi" She says, patting my hand as my handmaiden's usher the men from the tent. There is a flurry of activity around me as they prepare a place for me to lay and grab the birthing blanket I had made. I am encouraged to squat and am pulled back against the soft, warm body of the Maegi. She begins to chant softly, hands splayed over my stomach. The other women join her, linking hands and beginning to move together in a rocking motion. It is soothing. The pain is still there, but faded somehow. The maegi begins to chant louder, and I find my voice rising to chant with hers. I barely recognize it. It seems to me humming, almost throbbing with voices from places unknown. My hands splay over hers and we are moving and chanting as one entity, calling for my son to come into the world, for he is dancing too.

"Come to me Rhaego" I chant softly. We are pushing down on my stomach now, working with the contractions. The pain is nothing now; I am filled with a new purpose.

"Come, Rhaego, Come" We chant together. The Maegi pulls me up.

"Bear down Khaleesi. Let the earth pull him from you" I grit my teeth and bear down, feeling her press down on my stomach at the same time. She and the other women are still chanting, still rocking in a circle around me. I can feel my son pushing his way down. With a loud groan, I bear down again and the Maegi gasps. The chanting stops for a moment.

"I can see his head Khaleesi, Push!" She exclaims. Summoning the strength of the ages, I push one last time and she pulls him from my body. All is silent for a moment until he squalls strongly. I smile weakly.

"Rhaego" She whispers, almost reverently, using his birthing cloth to wipe his face and skin. He is perfect, 10 fingers and 10 toes, bright violet eyes and dark black hair. Drogo comes in, a rare smile on his face as he examines his son. He takes his blade and cuts the umbilical cord, lifting him from my arms. Rhaego is quiet now, father and son looking each other over. Jorah comes in, a swatch of rich purple silk in his hands.

"If he is to be royalty, he should be wrapped in rich silk" Jorah murmurs, wrapping the baby in the silky material. He smiles, a look of rare tenderness in his eyes. "Rhaego" He says softly, returning the baby to my arms. The silk has brought out the rich color of my son's eyes and I am filled with a love so powerful, I am speechless.

"Hello Rhaego" I murmur softly, stroking his perfect caramel colored skin. He looks up in me, wonder in his eyes.

"My darling son, someday you will be a King. You will rule fairly and kindly, but none will question your words. You shall be a king, Rhaego. The greatest King the Seven Kingdoms has ever seen" I murmur to him. A loud noise startles me and the baby, and Visyrs bursts into the tent.

"What vile lies you are spouting to that little heathen of yours. Telling him he shall be king. I should kill him, and you both." He hisses, walking menacingly toward us, blade in hand.

"You shouldn't have that" I tell him, cradling my son close.

"Oh this? What will they do? They can't shed blood in their sacred city. But I can" He presses the blade to Rhaego's throat. I stop breathing.

"I want what was promised. I want my crown. He got you but he never payed. I want what is mine or I will kill him in your arms" He demands. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see one of the women translating for Drogo. Visyrs is glowering and the blade is dangerously close to my son's jugular. Time seems to have stopped.

"You shall have what was promised and more" Drogo says, allowing the woman near him to translate. Visyrs' face clears.

"That is all I wanted. What was promised" He drops the blade from Rhaego's throat and I sigh in relief. Drogo comes and takes him from me, and hands him to a woman nearby who takes him out of the tent. Drogo strides over to a table and takes a necklace made of pure gold and takes it over to one of the pots, kicking the water out of it and dropping it inside. As he walks past the cage where my dragons are held, they coo at him, as if they know what is to happen. He places the pot over the fire, and before long the gold heats and begins to bubble. I struggle to a sitting position and Jorah tries to stop me.

"Look away Khaleesi" He warns.

"No, he is my brother" I murmur as the Khals men grab my brother and force him to his knees.

"What? No! Daeny! Make them stop! PLEASE! Stop them!" He screams in panic. My face is emotionless as my husband watches the gold melt. Once it is ready, he lifts the pot and turns to Visyrs.

"A crown fit for a king" He growls, dumping the molten gold over his head. Visyrs lets out a blood curdling shriek as the gold hardens, killing him instantly. He falls forward, his head landing with a sickening thud.

"He was never the dragon." I murmur, standing and walking carefully to the cage with my dragons.

"The dragon doesn't fear fire"


End file.
